I am anointed
I’ve always considered that my place of worship is City Park. I’m not sure when it became so, but I did realize one day that any day I did not walk through the park was a day without my soul being inspired.
This morning, I was walking through the park and looked across the lagoon to the Peristyle and saw a gospel choir robed in purple and gold lifting their voices to the sky.
On a tree stump nearby was a slick black cormorant with its wings outspread.
A black-crowned night heron, both an adult and an immature one, were davening in the thickness of the banks. (Honestly, I never knew herons were Jewish.)
And so began my Tuesday.